Willow's Story: The Seed
by MagicalLeaves
Summary: What happens if the stillborn that Lianne gave birth to lived? Her name is Willow. As the title suggests, this follows her early years. It runs through the first book of the Song of the Lioness series, so there will be 3 more stories. My 1st fanfic, ENJOY
1. Disclaimer

**So, I realised that I didn't have a disclaimer or anything. Well, not that I'll be needing it, because everybody knows these are fanfictions...which means:**

**NONE OF THESE CHARACTERS (Except Willow, of course!) BELONG TO ME! I wish they did though, but life isn't perfect.  
I'm just wickedly tweaking them to fit my own stories.**

**Also, the Song of the Lioness quartet doesn't belong to me either, though I again wish it did. I'm just using the plot and twisting it around to suit my needs. (Sorry Tamora!)**

**Anyways, this big message will be put at the front of each story to save time writing it out each time at the start of every chapter (I find that annoying), so...yeah...That's all for now.**

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**I also have a thank you to all those that have reviewed me so far! Thanks for your time and effort! And to all my readers, ILY! 3 :)**

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**1st Feb 2011: I have just been notified by PrincessofNiight2014 that there are wuite a few mistakes to do with ages throughout the story. Because it's my first fanfic, I hope you'll guys forgive me! Thanks for pointing that out PrincessofNiight2014, and I'm getting right on to fixing that! :)  
**


	2. Of Chess Games and Eardrops

**Hi guys! So, rewriting Song of the Lioness somewhat to include Jon's younger sister, Willow of Conté  
As mentioned before, I decided that Lianne's stillborn child (3 years after Jonathan's birth) should live and be his sister, Willow  
This is my first fanfic, though I had the idea in my mind for a while now. Enjoy! :)  
The first few chapters are from Lianne's (Jon and Willow's mother) POV, but the rest will be from Willow's.  
I have been trying for the past half hour, but have still not managed to get spacing between the paragraphs to save themselves! :( I would appreciate any tips...**

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The sun blazed high in the cloudless sky. Its warm comfortable rays shone down through a window into a small room where two young children sat on the rug playing chess.  
"Hah! Checkmate!" exclaimed the 8 year old boy triumphantly as he moved his knight.  
"Are you sure you want to do that?" inquired the other child seriously. Her sapphire blue eyes gazed intently at the board. "You'll lose your queen."  
"No I won't!" cried the boy. "Admit it, Will, I've won this time!"  
"You're not even close," replied the girl. She raised a hand, moving to take the queen. "Now that is checkmate."

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The boy stared at the board open-mouthed, then rounded on his 5 year old sister. "That's not fair! I was this close! Why do you always win?"  
"All's fair in love and war, Jon," replied the young girl. "Especially the war on the chessboard."  
"You can't do that! She can't do that, can she mama?"

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Until then I had been silently watching in affection, leaning against the doorframe with my arms folded in front of me. I started when my son addressed me. "Actually," I replied gently as I studied the board, "she can. You should stop getting so wound up in the end game Jonathan. It clouds your judgement. And you should stop taking advantage of it, Willow," I added to my daughter. "That strategy doesn't work on everyone. It also must be rather boring to win like this over and over again."  
"It's still fun," responded my youngest child, "and you promised you wouldn't complain about that today mama."

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I sighed in resignation and affection. The young girl's eyes were sapphire blue and her hair night black. It matched the boy's so much that it was impossible to miss that they were siblings. Today Willow was wearing a sky blue gown trimmed with dark blue ribbon. Her brother, Jonathan, was splendid in a dark blue tunic and matching pants with gold thread. The two both sported slender gold circlets as their mark of being heirs to the throne of Tortall. Willow's hair hung free to a glorious tangle. My fingers itched to take a brush and run it through her dark locks, but she had wanted it to hang freely like this today and I wasn't about to ruin her special day so I humoured her.

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Willow looked up as the bell that signalled lunch hour startled me out of my reverie. "Lunch time," she announced, her eyes sparkling in excitement. Jonathan helped her pack up the chess set before handing it to me to put on the nearby shelf. Then I turned and led the two children through the palace to a private garden. A servant was neatly spreading a red and white checkered blanket on the grass next to the rose bush. A large picnic basket sat nearby. Willow bounded up to it, her smile as bright as the sun. the servant glanced up, smiling at her happiness, then bowed deeply to the three of us before leaving. Another servant entered the garden with a chocolate cake, decorated with 5 silver candles, and the chocolate icing was decorated with exquisite gold designs of flowers and stars. I prepared to light the candles, but Willow stopped me. "Wait for papa," she entreated. I couldn't help smiling at her genuine happiness at everything.

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"Excuse me, Your Majesty, Your Highnesses." A young message runner had approached us. He bowed low. "His Royal Majesty is unable to attend the festivities. He sends his deepest apologies."  
I stared at the youth. "I beg you pardon?" I began politely, but someone beat me to it.  
"What do you mean? Where's papa?" demanded Willow. "He promised he'd come. He promised he'd be here. He'd promised that he wouldn't have a meeting today."  
"Willow-" I began.  
"No! He promised! You promised he would come!" Willow's face was flushed. She glared at me. "Where is he? Why isn't he here? He's at a meeting isn't he? He promised he would come!"  
"I'm sure he's coming Willow," I replied, trying to remain calm.  
"No he won't," said Willow almost calmly. "You're lying. He won't come. He's a liar, and you are too." With those words she turned and fled.  
"Will!" Jonathan called, racing after her.  
I was left there open-mouthed with an unlit cake standing amidst the remains of a birthday party gone horribly wrong.

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Willow ran through the palace, barely noticing surprised nobles who moved quickly out of her way, and Jonathan's. She flew into her room, her brother hot on her heels. "Will," he called again, hearing the click of the lock in the door.  
"Go away," her muffled voice shouted.  
"Excuse me, Your Royal Highness," said a polite voice. Jonathan turned. A maid stood there. She offered the Crown Prince a key. Jonathan blinked, surprised, then took the key to unlock his sister's door. "Thank you," he said, returning the key to the woman, who curtsied and padded away silently. Jonathan pushed the door open, passing through my sitting room. He hesitated briefly before Willow's bedroom, then walked in.  
Willow was lying facedown on her bed. Jonathan moved to sit down next to her. "Go away," she repeated, her voice muffled by the pillow. Her brother didn't reply. After a few minutes Willow lifted her head. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She sat up, turning to lean on her brother's shoulder. Jonathan automatically put his arms around her.

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"It's not fair," Willow finally mumbled. She looked up into Jonathan's face. "Why didn't papa come?"  
"I don't know," replied Jonathan gently, rubbing the small of his younger sister's back as she buried her face in his shoulder. The two siblings sat there for a while, Willow occasionally sniffling. Finally Jonathan stood to get his sister a handkerchief from his dresser. After a while he dug in his pocket, producing a small box.  
"I know this isn't the right time," he said quietly, "but when I saw them I thought you might like them, so I got mama to buy them for you."  
Willow wasn't listening. She had opened the box and was gaping at its contents. There was an exquisite silver necklace with a heart-shaped locket and a matching silver bracelet with spaces for charms of Willow's choosing. Willow picked up the necklace, looking at Jonathan in inquiry. "Open it," said Jonathan, smiling. Willow obeyed. The left side held a painting of the two siblings with their arms around eachother and grinning with joy, while the right was engraved _To Will with love from Jon_.

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Willow scrambled into her brother's arms. "Oh thank you Jon!" she whispered.  
Jonathan chuckled. "You missed something," he replied. When she pulled away in surprise, he winked, nodding at the box. Carefully Willow upended it. A pair of heart-shaped sapphire eardrops fell out. Willow stared at them.  
"Mama was going to take you to a healer after lunch to get your ears pierced, birthday girl," explained Jonathan, then internally winced. He'd been trying so hard not to mention the disastrous party in front of Willow.  
"Let's go then," replied Willow.  
"Huh?" Jonathan blinked in confusion.  
"To get my ears pierced. Mama and papa aren't here and we need a healer." Willow grabbed her brother's hand. "Come on Jon!" she exclaimed with a laugh, dragging the bemused boy off to search for Duke Baird.

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**Hopefully you guys liked it. More on the way soon! Please read and review! (And help with the spacing problem would be appreciated, for now I'll be putting . for paragraph spacing and ~oOo~ for scene breaks until I find a solution-sorry!)  
**

**~MagicalLeaves**


	3. Page Training and Promises

**So new chapter :) Still from third person, as Willow's still young (only 8).  
I have figured out the paragraph spacing! And it wasn't a glitch or anything, it was me being stupid because I didn't know how to use the site xDDD  
I will still be using ~oOo~ for scene breaks  
Anyways, ENJOY!**

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An 8 year old girl sat in her room staring into the fireplace. The light of the embers played over her sapphire blue eyes and blue-black locks. It also revealed a trembling mouth.  
"Willow?" An 11 year old boy who shared Willow's blue eyes and black hair stood in the doorway. He took one look and crossed the room to hug his younger sister.  
"What's wrong?" he murmured.  
"Why do you have to go Jon?" whispered Willow.  
"Hey, it's not like I'm leaving the city," said Jonathan gently. "I'm not even leaving the palace!"  
"But I'll be so bored and lonely!" mumbled Willow, fighting tears.  
"Jonathan pulled away to look into his younger sister's eyes. " I'll be back for Midwinter." he told her firmly. "And I'll write lots of letters."  
"Promise?" asked Willow, her voice cracking.  
"Promise," replied Jonathan as stoutly as an 11 year old could.  
"Ok," mumbled Willow  
"Good," finished Jonathan, tightening the hug for a brief moment before pulling away. To his surprise Willow let go. She gazed up at him, her expression that of someone trying their hardest to be brave. Jonathan hesitated briefly, then leaned over to kiss her cheek as if they were younger. Straightening, he studied her for a long moment, inspecting those sapphire eyes, so like his own, set in that pale face. His chest felt tight and funny.

"Ready to go?" Jonathan and Willow looked around. The pair's cousin, Gareth of Naxen, stood in the doorway. He smiled at Willow, who managed a smile back. "Hi Gary," she murmured quietly.  
Her brown-haired cousin snorted. "Is that all you have to say Will?"  
He set down the pack he was carrying and walked into the room, holding out his arms. Willow pulled away from Jonathan to hug him fiercely.  
"Are you crying?" asked Gary. "Don't cry tree girl." As always, the name made Willow giggle.  
"Will you remember me after you become a knight and go on adventures?" she asked suddenly.  
"Is that what you're worried about? Mithros's spear," sighed Gary, smiling faintly. He looked straight into his younger cousin's eyes. "I promise we won't forget you. We'll think of you every day, won't we Jon?"  
"Of course," replied Jonathan firmly, moving forward to give Willow one last hug. He pulled away, looking straight into her face. "I love you Will," he said gently.  
"I love you too," she replied, her voice muffled.  
Jonathan let go, meeting his sister's eyes for one long moment, then turned, grabbing his pack from the ground even as Gary scooped up his.  
"Bye Jon," whispered Willow.  
"Bye sis," replied Jonathan. "Be good."  
"I will," she replied resolutely.

Jonathan took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as well as a 10 year old could, then left the room. Gary shot Willow a wink, making her smile, before following. The room suddenly seemed very empty.

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**Well? Please review thanks :)**


	4. Family Letters

**A few weeks have passed...  
As always, enjoy!**

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_Dear Jon,_

_How are you? Are you doing well?  
My lessons are okay. Some of them are hard, like the ones my tutor calls "etiquette". He says I need to know how to be nice to other nobles, which is silly because I already do that! Another lesson is writing. I have to learn how to write "like a proper lady", as Master Nayan says. What is a proper lady, by the way? I'm only 8! Another really boring lesson is language. I have to learn Tyran, Carthaki, Gallan, and more. It's so hard, but Papa says I have to know how to talk to diplomats from other places. He says it's to help "foster and strengthen bonds between different people". What does that mean?_

_I also take lessons in what Mama calls "the arts", like music and singing, dancing, and even sewing. It's really boring. But Mama's allowed to teach me sewing and other stuff like embroidery, so at least that's fun with her. My music tutor Mistress Kyla (but she lets me call her Kyla) is teaching my how to play the flute and some singing as well. That's fun too because she's not old and fussy like Master Nayan._

_It's really boring without you. I have no one to play with. I miss you._

_Love from Willow xxx  
_

~oOo~

_Dear Willow,_

_Sounds like you have a very busy life! Don't worry, if you work hard, everything gets easier.  
I'm doing well. I've made some great friends: Alexander (Alex) of Tirragen, Francis of Nond, Raoul of Goldenlake, and then of course there's our cousin Gary. The lessons are hard, especially mathematics. It drives me crazy how Alex can answer them just like that! My favourite lessons have to be staff and weapons practice. I'm learning a lot of new things and I'm getting better at it everyday.  
We have etiquette lessons as well! We're learning how to greet other people depending on their rank this week. I've learnt so many different bows (to other nobles, diplomats, ladies, the royal family-that's us-and more!) that my head is spinning._

_It's hard being a page. We have to be disciplined. That means we have to be well-behaved, always be on time, have all our homework done, and be respectful to everyone-each other, the teachers, and our weapons master. If we're the tiniest bit late to a class, or we misbehave, we get punishment work. Sometimes we get so much homework that I'm up past midnight to finish it! Of course, that means I fall asleep in class the next day and get punished anyway. So much for all my hard work! But our etiquette tutor says that good work is the hallmark of a knight. I bet he's never even seen a sword before, much less lifted it! What would he know?_

_I've got to go now, my free time's running out and I haven't finished mathematics homework!_

_Missing you too!_

_Love Jon_

_P.S. What Father means by to "foster and strengthen bonds between different people" is that he wants to make friends with people from other places by being nice and respectful to the diplomats from those places like Galla and Carthak. Hope that helps!_

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**Please read and review!**** :)**_  
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	5. Of Special Visits and New Friends

**This and following chapters will be done in First Person from Willow's POV.  
It's been a few years, Jon is now a squire, and has only recently met Alan (Alanna of course) of Trebond. HAVE FUN!**

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The sun played through the window, brushing the room. It shone on the plush carpet and warmed the bottom of a 13 year old's sky blue dress. The teenager in question was sitting comfortably in her chair, reading from a book in her hands. Her sapphire blue eyes remained focused on the pages.

_A good lady is proficient in the arts of needlepoint, music, and discourse among other like-minded ladies. Her chastity makes her a credit to her family and bloodlines. She is a graceful and elegant…_  
As I turned the page, I shifted in my chair. I was already bored, but determined to keep going. One more chapter, then I can stop, I promised myself mentally. I was so wrapped up in my chore that I started when someone knocked at the door. Surprised, I rose to open it. A young figure in a cloak stood there. By his height (which was all I could see) he looked to be about 16.

"Excuse me," the figure remarked, "but have I the honour of meeting Her Royal Highness, Princess Willow of Conté? I have an important message for her from her brother."  
"Of course," I replied, surprised. "Give me a moment." I turned, placing the book on a nearby table, then smiled politely at him. "Please, come in. All of you," I added to the lead figure's companions.

"Oh good," replied the figure. "I was worried that you'd just leave us out here and create an unnecessary awkward situation."  
I blinked, startled. The figure tilted his head back slightly, finally giving me a clear view of who was under the hood.

"Jon?" I said in disbelief. Jon laughed and lifted his hood off. His companions did the same, all grinning, as he moved into the room to hug me fiercely.

Quickly I invited them in. Jon introduced them all. The largest youth with the merry coal black eyes and hair was Raoul of Goldenlake. His shy blond shadow was Francis of Nond. The tall slim catlike boy was Alexander of Tirragen (otherwise known as Alex). And of course, there was Gary, my cousin, now 17 (like Raoul and Francis), who embraced me rather cheerfully as always. I had heard of Jon's friends through his frequent letters, but it was still a pleasure to finally meet them in person.

Finally, Jon introduced me to his newest friend. The young boy was about 11, and a first year page (while the Jon and the others were now squires). His hair was a fiery copper and his eyes were a startling violet.  
"This is Alan of Trebond," announced Jon. I curtsied politely, as I had done to everyone (except Jon and Gary of course). The Trebond family was one of oldest noble families in Tortall and was in the Book of Gold, and I was pleased to meet a member of said family.

"I've spoken with Father and he's agreed to give you a day off," explained Jon," so I was wondering if you would like to go ice skating with us. If not, we can just explore Corus."  
I raised a brow. "Explore Corus?" I inquired.  
"Not like that of course," laughed Jon, "you'd be recognised. If you want to come you'll have to find a disguise. Or at least some less, well, fancy clothing."

I grinned. "Very well, Squire Jonathan," I replied, curtsying. I disappeared into my room, emerging later in a simple blue gown, having removed my circlet and jewellery. Once I had returned, Jon handed me a plain dark cloak for outings. When I glanced at him he shrugged. "It's an old one of mine, but I can't wear it anymore. It should fit you just fine." I took it and pulled it on.  
We were completely transformed, I realised, as I looked at all of us. With our more well-used clothes and shoes, we looked like a group of rich merchants' children, and I had no doubt that we would pass as such.

"Francis and I aren't actually coming," remarked Alex, "we just jumped at the chance to meet Jon's famous sister. Though, with the way he talks about you, it feels like we're old friends," he added mischievously.  
"Likewise," I replied, grinning. Alex winked with a similar smile, then both he and Francis bowed, Alex holding his a moment longer than necessary, before departing swiftly. When they were gone, Jon sighed. "I wish Alex would at least tell me when he plans to flirt with my sister," he remarked dryly. When I glanced at him, he shrugged. "I have an older brother's interest in you still."  
I rolled my eyes. "I'm 13, Jon," I replied, equally dry. "I think I can look after myself."  
"Since when has Alex ever announced that he's going to flirt with someone beforehand?" Gary inquired. Raoul snorted. I smiled faintly. It seemed that Gary had retained his sense of humour over the years.

Jon chuckled, shaking his head. "Come on, let's go," he announced, eyes sparkling eagerly.

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**As always, please read and review! Hope you liked it :)**


	6. Meeting His Majesty

**So Willow finally gets to explore Corus, yay!  
She also gets to meet a rather interesting person...  
Enjoy!  
**

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We stepped out of the palace and entered the city of Corus.

"Oh," exclaimed Jon, "I almost forgot." He turned to me. "While in the city, I'm known as Johnny, rich merchant' son. It's better than letting anyone know that someone called Jonathan who looks remarkably like the Heir is running around the streets of Corus," he explained. I nodded in understanding. He studied me thoughtfully, his thinking face on.  
"Wendy is a common enough name," suggested Raoul.  
"What about Will?" joked Gary. "We can say she was supposed to be a boy, and her father was so disappointed-Ouch!" I had punched him on the arm. "That's not very ladylike," he muttered.  
"I'm not a lady here," I replied with my sweetest smile. Gary made a face.  
"Willa?" suggested Alan. We glanced at him in surprise, and he shrugged.  
Jon nodded. "Willa. That should be good enough," he murmured.

As I walked with the group through the streets of Corus, it occurred to me to ask where we were headed. Jon smiled faintly at my question. "To an inn called The Dancing Dove," he replied. "There's someone I would like you to meet." I cocked my head in curiosity, but none of the group would say anymore of the matter when questioned.

After entering The Dancing Dove, Jon and his friends pushed their hoods back, me quickly following suit. Jon walked over to an old man, whose face lit up at the sight of him. "Why Johnny, old boy! What brings you down here?"  
"Hello Solom," chuckled Jon. "I was wondering if we could have a private word with Master George. There's someone I would like him to meet."  
"His Majesty? Why of course," grinned Solom. He led us through the inn towards a table, where a group of commoners sat. One of them, a youth with brown hair and hazel eyes, glanced up as Solom hobbled over. "Hello Solom," said the boy politely. He glanced at our group, and his smile became suddenly welcoming. "Why Johnny, hello! This is a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?"  
"He says that you have private business with them, Majesty," replied Solom._  
Majesty? _I wondered.  
The boy cocked his head, then seemed to remember. "Of course, I remember now." He nodded. "I'll be back soon," he told his friends. "Right this way," he added to us.

As we followed the youth up the stairs to the second floor of the inn, Jon nudged me. "By the way, what was that book you were reading when we came to find you before?" he murmured.  
"The Way of the Lady," I replied. "Father gave it to me for my birthday."  
"Sounds boring," commented Jon, making me snort.  
"You have no idea," I responded with a grin.

Once inside a private room on the second floor, Master George (for by now I had figured out it was him) locked the door, then glanced at us. "I assume you'll now tell me of the supposed business that I have with you, Jon," he remarked, his voice dry. "Although, I assume it's to do with the young lady you have brought with you."  
I blinked at his words. Jon glanced at me. "It's okay," he reassured me, "George knows who we are. We can trust him to keep a secret." He smiled reassuringly. I relaxed somewhat. If Jon trusted him, then so did I.  
"This is Willow, my sister," Jon said, introducing me to Master George. "Willow, this is Master George, or George as he likes to be known among his friends."  
"And I'm a friend, am I?" I inquired.  
George grinned. "Only if you want to be," he replied, with a graceful bow. "Welcome to The Dancing Dove. I'm George, as your brother has said, commoner of Corus."  
"That's not all you are," I replied, then paused. "Your Majesty," I added, dropping a brief curtsy and giving him a knowing smile.

George raised a brow. "If nobody told you, then how did you know?" he asked.  
I smiled. "Well, Solom, as you called him, was rather obvious," I replied, "and the people here have this air of watchfulness, like they know what's happening around them. Also, the people you sit with-while you are friends, they treat you with a high level of respect. I just knew."

George whistled. "Every bit as sharp as Jon said you were," he remarked, with a nod to Jon. "Alright then, yes, I'm what many commoners call The King of Thieves. And before I say anything else, I will not use whatever friendship we have in my battle with the Lord Provost. My game of wits is between him and me alone."  
I nodded slowly. "Very well," I replied. "Then in the city of Corus I am called Willa, though friends may address me as Will. And Princesses and Kings must be friends, no?"  
George laughed. "That's exactly what you're brother said," he remarked, offering me a hand, which I shook quite cheerfully.

~oOo~

"So," inquired Jon when we had later returned from our outing into the city, the others having gone back to the page wing, "what do you think?" we sat together, in my chambers.  
I studied my brother. "Why introduce me to him?" I asked. "And how ever did you make his acquaintance?"  
Jon chuckled. "Actually, Alan met him, I'm not too sure how. Alan introduced me to George. We all know his position in Corus, and I thought that you might like to met him. Am I right?"  
"You are," I replied thoughtfully. "George is an…interesting person. Very charming."  
Jon chuckled again. "I thought you might say that."  
I cocked my head. "I like him," I admitted, "he seems trustworthy." I snorted. "Who would've thought such a person could be labelled as such?"  
"It just goes to show that you can't judge a book by it's cover," replied Jon. I nodded in agreement.

All of a sudden the gong rang to signal the hour before dinner.  
"Mithros," exclaimed Jon, I didn't realise how much time had passed. I have to go, I have philosophyhomework that I haven't finished yet."  
Standing up, I gave him a quick hug. "Bye Jon. See you later."  
"Bye," replied Jon, returning my hug and giving me a kiss on the cheek. He turned, and strode out of the room.

_He has changed_, I mused, remembering a younger more carefree boy from my childhood. _He has matured, and I wasn't there to see it_, I thought, feeling a pang of sadness mixed with pride. _He'll make a fine King._

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**So there you have it. Willow likes George. Well, of course, Jon likes George, so Willow should too.**

**Please review and thanks for reading! :)  
**


	7. The Sweating Sickness  Part 1

**Roger's first move...**  
**As always, enjoy! :)**

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The Sweating Sickness struck in March. It razed through the Tortall, first touching the lives of men, women, and children alike. Commoners were the first to fall ill, before the epidemic then made its way to the palace.  
The first page touched by the Sweating Sickness was one of Jon's friends, Francis of Nond. Raoul quickly followed. I began to visit Jon more frequently, troubled by how hard he took news of his friends' illnesses.

"They'll be alright." My gaze was steady. I sat with Jon in his room. He had been hiding there for the last hour.  
"You can't know that." Jon's voice was harsh with worry.  
I glared at him. "Jonathan of Conté, snap yourself out of this state. Both Francis and Raoul are strong. They will get better." My voice was fierce. Jonathan nodded, ignoring the worried look in my eyes that I unsuccessfully tried to hide.

"Excuse me, Your Highnesses?" A servant stood at the door. "His Grace Duke Baird has sent for you. He has urgent news that you must hear."  
Jon and I exchanged glances, then followed the messenger, locking the door on the way out.  
'Did His Grace say what he wanted of us?" I inquired to the messenger.  
"No, Your Highness, only that he must see you," the man replied. We all paused before a door. Looking around, I realised this was the door to our parents' chambers. My stomach began to churn. Jon swallowed heavily.  
The servant knocked politely on the door, then bowed to us. "Gods guide and protect you in these troubling times, Your Highnesses."  
Jon and I stared at eachother for a long moment, then entered the room.

"Ah, there you are."  
We both looked up. Duke Baird was sitting in the room. Father sat next to him.  
"Your Majesty, Your Grace," I replied softly, curtsying lightly. Jon did the same, bowing to each of them.  
Father sighed. "So formal," he murmured. "I guess I am to blame for that."

I blinked at him, startled. For once, his face wasn't that of polite blankness, and I took the offered chance to study it. He seemed, for want of a better word, sad.  
I was surprised. Father always kept his emotions to himself. He hardly raised his voice or got angry among others. Sometimes, I would hear him laugh and he often smiled, but being sad…just wasn't him. As I continued to watch him, a tear suddenly made its way down his cheek.

Fear settled in a cold hard lump in my stomach. "Father?" I said hesitantly. I took a step towards him, uncertain. Beside me, I sensed Jon open and close his mouth as he struggled for something to say.

"Your mother," Duke Baird finally managed to say. "She is ill."

The world seemed to vanish for one moment. I swayed, then took a step back.  
"What?" My voice came out in a whisper.  
Duke Baird met my gaze. "We have tried our best, but…" He looked grim. "This is not a normal epidemic. The healers, all of them, they are drained when they try to help. I will do as best as I can. That is all I can offer. I am sorry." He left the room.

"Father?" I whispered, looking up at him. I was stunned to see that his face was grey. He suddenly looked very old, and very tired.

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**DUN DUN DUN! The Sweating Sickness has struck!  
Hope you liked it :)**


	8. The Sweating Sickness  Part 2

"We can do something," I managed to say. I looked at Jon. "We have the Gift. We, we, we can help Duke Baird and the others-"  
"No." I looked up. Father was watching us. His gaze was suddenly fierce. "No," he repeated. "I can't allow it. I won't allow it."  
"Father, Mother is ill!" I protested. "Surely you cannot expect me to sit there and say all is well?"  
"Father's gaze burned into my vision. "You two," he swallowed, "you two are the Heirs. Your mother…she cannot have any more children. I cannot let you fall ill. It would risk the kingdom. I cannot. You two are the last," he repeated.

I opened my mouth, then shut it. As I stared back, I saw fear in his gaze. Fear, anguish, and desperation stared back._  
He understands,_ I realised, _but he can't risk me. He can't risk the kingdom._ The fear in my stomach began clawing its way up, where I became lodged in my throat. I turned away. "Jon?" I whispered to my older brother. Jon stared back, then pulled me into his arms as my shoulders began to shake and tears began to fall.

~oOo~

As March turned to April, the Sweating Sickness continued its rampage. Raoul recovered from his sickness, but Francis succumbed to it. I spent the day with Jon at his friend's memorial, then walked aimlessly around with him afterwards. Jon was shaken and upset.

I took each day as it went, praying every evening for Mother to get better and thanking the Gods every morning I woke up healthy.

~oOo~

I stood at Mother's bedside. She had finally recovered from her bout of the illness. Her face was pale and she had lost a lot of weight, but she slept peacefully. I touched her hand, silently thanking everything that The Black God had not claimed Mother's life. I froze when Mother stirred, but she merely exhaled and seemed to relax again. Letting go of her hand, I leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, and crept out of the room silently.

I was so grateful for Mother's survival that it never occurred to me that The Sweating Sickness had only just got started on my family.

~oOo~

I was in my chambers when Gary found me. He looked me up and down, then pulled me into his arms. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.  
"I'm fine," I replied, confused. "Mother's getting better, isn't she."  
"Mithros, you don't know," whispered Gary, pulling back. He stared at me. "I thought someone had told you."  
"Told me what?" I asked. Gary fell silent. "Gary?" I said, afraid.

"It's Jon," Gary finally said. "He's sick. And there are no healers left, none at all."

* * *

**GASP OH NOES!  
Hope you liked it! As always, please review :)**


	9. The Sweating Sickness  Part 3

**Anything you recognise has been taken from Tamora's books :) If it looks warped, I'm sorry, I can't remember the exact wording of some of it, but the basic stuff is there**  
**This is the conclusion to The Sweating Sickness...*suspenseful music***  
**As always, HAVE FUN!  
~MagicalLeaves**

* * *

"No," I said flatly. "You're wrong."  
"I'm not lying," replied Gary, his voice gentle. "Jon really is sick. I'm sorry."  
"No," I repeated, "not that. There is another healer."  
Gary's eyes widened. "Where?" he demanded. "Mithros knows Jon needs one. Why didn't you tell anybody sooner that you knew one? Who is it?"  
I swallowed, then met Gary with a steady gaze. "Me."  
Gary stared at me.  
"The Gift is passed down through the Conté line," I whispered. "I have it, and so does Jon."  
"Mithros and Goddess," sighed Gary, sinking into a chair. He studied me. "Have you any idea what you're saying?"  
"Dammit Gary! I can't just sit here and twiddle my thumbs! Jon's sick." My voice dropped. "I have to do something. He's all I've got."  
Gary rested his head in his hands. "Have you any idea how your father will react when you tell him?" he asked, his voice muffled. "He won't let you anywhere near Jon, and you know it. Not while you're their only healthy child."  
"That's why I'm not going to tell Father," I replied flatly. "I'm going to Jon's room. You can either come with me, or not, I don't care. I should've done something earlier."  
Gary got to his feet with a sigh. "I'll walk you. But I won't come in with you."

~oOo~

I paused outside the door to Jon's room, my mouth dry. What I was about to do had only just hit me. I was considering telling Gary that maybe I was crazy and we should go back when someone's voice cut through my panic.  
"Your Highness?"  
I looked up, startled. Timon, a manservant, had poked his head out the door. He looked alarmed. "Your Highness, you really shouldn't be here. You could become ill."  
At those words, strength rushed back into me. "Let me in please, Timon," I said politely.  
Timon opened and shut his mouth, looking more alarmed than ever. "Your Highness-"  
"Timon, let her in," repeated Gary, his voice gentle but firm.  
Timon swallowed, then opened the door wider, ushering me in. "Her Royal Highness, Princess Willow of Tortall," he announced to the suddenly quiet room.

I stared in horror at the place. Courtiers stood crowded around the bed in the middle of the room. There were a few priests of the Black God of death standing around. The heady smell of incense hung in the air, making me feel queasy. _How was Jon ever supposed to get better in these conditions?_  
"Your Highness?"  
I looked around. Alan of Trebond handed me some robes which were warded against disease. I pulled them on and nodded my thanks, pushing back the lump that rose in my throat. "It's ok," added Alan of Trebond gently. "I've sent for Sir Myles. He'll sort this all out."  
I nodded blindly, having eyes for only my pale sweating brother. He lay on the bed, occasionally muttering lightly.  
Timon walked over, muttering to Alan. "Sir Myles is here."  
"Good," replied Alan. "I'll be right back," he said to me, then left the room.

A few moments later Timon opened the door. "Sir Myles of Olau!" he announced to the room.  
"Have you taken leave of your senses? How is the Prince supposed to get better in this state?" He glared at the inhabitants. I was startled by his anger."Out. All of you. For shame," he added to the Black God's priests, "he isn't dead yet."  
The people slowly filed out, murmuring to one another.  
Duke Baird, who had until now been standing exhausted in the corner, moved forward. "Thank you Sir Myles," he said, relieved. "How can I help you all?"

Alan quickly explained that he possessed a Gift of healing, and wanted to help.  
Duke Baird glanced at me. "And yourself, Your Highness?" he inquired.  
I swallowed. "I also have the Gift. From the Conté family line," I explained, mostly for Alan's benefit as he looked surprised. "I want to help. Jon's my brother. I have this right."  
"And if you also fall ill, what should happen then?" asked Duke Baird.  
I met his gaze. "Should worse come to worse," I gulped, "then our cousin Duke Roger becomes heir. He's in Carthak, he shouldn't be affected by this."  
"What about your parents?" demanded Alan. "Surely they can't be letting you take this risk?"  
"My parents don't know," I replied, steeling myself. "I won't let them stop me helping. I have to help. I should've done so sooner."  
Duke Baird sighed. "Then listen. This illness is not natural. It has drained every healer who has worked to help. I find it very interesting that only after all the healers are drained or dead that the Heir to the kingdom falls ill. That is all I will say on the matter." He paused, looking at each of us in turn. "May Mithros and the Goddess guide and protect you. I hope you do better than I have done." With that he left the room, looking exhausted.

When he was gone I turned to Alan. "What do we do?"  
Alan studied me. "What training have you had?" he asked.  
"No training, formal or otherwise. Father...disapproved of the Gift, he never said why. I never got training for it. All I know is from the scrolls and books from the Royal Library. Basic things, nothing more."  
Alan shrugged. "It's better than nothing."  
"I hope so," I replied, gulping.

"Willow? Is that you?" A cracked whisper echoed through the suddenly silent room.  
I swallowed, walking over to the bed. "I'm here Jon," I whispered, taking his hand. He was very warm and feverish. His eyes fluttered up to mine as he struggled to sit up. "What are you doing here?" he managed.  
"You're my brother," I replied softly. "I had to come."  
Jon chuckled weakly. "Stubborn little mule," he muttered.  
"Don't insult me Brother dearest," I retorted, somewhat bolstered by his words. "I'm here to help."  
Jon squeezed my hand. "I'm glad you're here," he whispered through cracked lips, then sank back down onto the bed.  
Alan handed me a cup of water, which I in turn forced Jon to drink, teasing and cajoling him. Then Alan moved forward to take Jon's hand. "Sleep, Jon," he murmured. I found myself yawning as the violet light washed over my brother. When it faded his eyes were closed, and his face peaceful.

"Okay," said Alan. "We'll try the natural remedies first." He sent Timon for wood and Myles for ingredients. We began building up the fire with what we had. Soon we were sweating in the heat. He set me to heating bricks in the blaze before wrapping them and placing them around Jon's body. Meanwhile, Timon returned with the things he'd been set to fetch. Alan quickly brewed up a cough syrup, giving it to Jon when it had cooled sufficiently. "Give this to him every hour," he instructed, handing it to me. I nodded in reply.

The door suddenly swung open. Alan turned, then bowed deeply as Mother and Father entered the room.  
"Alan of Trebond," said Father quietly, "How is my son?"  
"As well as can be hoped, Your Majesty," replied Alan.  
Father then turned his gaze to me. "How long have you been here?" he asked.  
I met his gaze steadily. "Since this morning. I had to come. I couldn't tell you-you would only stop me. But I had to help. I should've helped sooner."'  
"Mother? Father?" Jon's rasp cut through the air, made into treacle by the intense heat. Alan slipped out of the room to give us some privacy as Mother crossed to Jon's side. She took his hand, whispering to him.  
Father sighed. "I'm not angry with you, Willow," he said. "I just wish there was another way. I should never have stopped you. You have always put other people's welfare before our own. It's just your nature. How could you have gone against something that was a very basic part of you? How could I have even asked that of you?" he studied me, looking older than ever before. "I wronged you, and I'm so very sorry."  
I stared at him for a long moment, then pulled him into a hug. "It's okay Father," I replied, my voice muffled. "You were only doing what you thought was best."  
Having made amends, we walked over to Jon and Mother, spending a few quiet minutes as a family before Alan returned.

~oOo~

Alan and I quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm. We kept a close eye on Jon. Hours passed into days. Occasionally Myles, Coram, or Timon would take over our jobs and banish us to eat or get some rest. Our tireless worked paid off. Two or three days into our work, Jon's cough finally cleared up. It made me smile, hearing him breathe so easily.

~oOo~

Screaming cut through my restless sleep. I bolted upright on my pallet in the bedroom, then staggered over to the door, wrenching it open. The image greeting my eyes was not pleasant. Jon was having another of his hallucinations. Though his cough had cleared up, his temperature had continued to rise. As I stared in dismay, Alan struggled with Jon as he flailed around wildly, his arms flying about.

"Help me!" Alan shouted. He clutched Jon's fever syrup.  
Acting instinctively, I froze Jon with a simple spell, even as Timon, Myles and Coram moved forward. They each grabbed a limb, pinning Jon down, before Alan moved in with the medicine. Once he poured it down Jon's throat, he sagged backwards. "Okay, you can let go now."  
The three men let go, then glanced at me as I eased up on my magic, swaying. _Duke Baird was right_, I realised. _This Sweating Sickness did drain healers_. Once free Jon slumped as if the incident had never happened.  
I let out a breath I hadn't realised I had been holding. I had been badly shaken by the sudden turn in Jon's health, and I could tell the others were too.

"Alan, you have to do something," Coram finally said.  
"I'm trying!" Alan yelled back. I could tell he was exhausted already.  
I opened my mouth to interrupt the pair. After all, both of them were just extremely tired and stressed from Jon's illness.  
"Well go inside yourself! Can't you see he's dying?" snapped Coram.  
I bit my lip as I struggled to ignore his words. Alan picked up the last packet, looking resigned. "Timon, Coram, you'd better leave," he said dully.  
Coram opened his mouth to argue, then, looking at Alan's face, changed his mind. "Let's go," he said to the manservant. "I don't want to be in here when they start fooling with serious magic." Both men left. Only Myles of Olau and I were now in the room with Alan.

"Alan," I said warily, "what is that?"  
"Vervain," replied Alan softly. He looked up abruptly, meeting my gaze. "Whatever happens, Your Highness, DO NOT interfere."  
"Alan-" I began, startled by his vehemence.  
"No. Do not interfere," repeated Alan almost fiercely. "I need your word that you won't intervene if anything happens."  
I swallowed, then nodded. "I give you my word," I said, my voice hollow with fear.  
Alan nodded, then turned towards the fire. Kneeling before the flames, he threw the contents of the packet in, then held his hands over the heat. I didn't hear the words he said, but the fire began to slowly turn purple.

Suddenly, the purple flames erupted forward up Alan's arms. He screamed as he began to glow a bright purple.  
Myles started forward, reaching for the young page. I grabbed his arm. "No! We can't interfere!" I gasped, well aware of the terror on my face.  
Alan turned towards Jon, taking his hands. "Jonathan," he called. Myles and I both froze. The voice that we heard was not Alan's, but rather that of a young woman. Confused, we backed slowly away from the bed.

I noticed then a light that began to take the shape of a woman next to Alan's shoulder. She spoke to Alan, but I didn't hear her words. I stared at the appearance of this new character. She had alabaster skin, and full red lips, and was dressed in a full robe that fell to the floor, thus covering her feet. As if she noticed there were others in the room, she glanced up. I was frozen under her gaze. _Willow of Tortall. Your love for others will be your biggest strength, but also your greatest weakness._ Her voice ripped through my head, sounding like the neighing of horses and the calls of their riders. I clamped my lips shut, biting back a scream, and locked my knees to stop myself falling in agony at her voice. The Lady studied me, her eyes pure emerald, then nodded, perhaps in approval. She smiled suddenly, and then winked out of view, the light collapsing into itself.

"Your Highness, are you alright?"  
I looked up stupidly. Myles stared at me in concern.  
"I'm fine," I gasped. "Didn't you see her?"  
Myles frowned. "See who?"  
"That person…standing there…"  
Myles touched my shoulder. "I think the exhaustion is getting to your head," he said gently.  
I swallowed, then shook my head stubbornly, clearing out the apparent exhaustion. "I'm fine," I repeated.

Alan and Jon began to burn softly at first, then stronger, with a bright purple light. Myles and I both heard a man's and woman's voice coming from the pair. Suddenly the light winked out, leaving the pair there, hand in hand. Alan let go, then turned to us. "He'll be alright," he murmured, then looked up. "Myles?" he gasped, then collapsed.  
I snapped into action, catching him as he fell. I gasped with the effort. Though Alan was short, his page training had put more muscle on him than I expected. Myles quickly took the boy from my arms.  
"Check him," I ordered Myles, pushing past my fear. After all, I had to take charge now. I crossed swiftly to Jon's side, taking his hand. "Jon?" I whispered, nervous.

I let go of his hand and was about to turn away when he spoke. "Willow?"  
I seized his hand again. "Jon," I gasped, relief beginning to filter through me.  
Jon smiled tiredly. "So you are here. I thought I'd just dreamed you," he murmured.  
I squeezed his hand. "Of course I was here. You're my brother."  
"I'm glad for that," replied Jon weakly. "It's good to be back," he sighed, then closed his eyes, sinking back down onto the bed.

As he began to sleep, I leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, tears of relief beginning to slide down my face.

* * *

**YAY IT'S OVER JON'S OKAY:D (Well that's obvious considering everyone has read the quartet...)  
Ooohhh the appearance of the Great Mother Goddess...Isn't that exciting? :D  
Maybe the Princess is marked, just not like Alanna. I haven't decided whether to further get the Goddess involved in Willow's life.  
Hope you enjoyed it! :)**


	10. Of Dukes and Storms

Jon took a whole day to recover. Alan took 3. I spent most of my time with my elder brother. We would often be seen walking throughout the palace. Page training had been put on hold for the rest of the month so everyone could recover from the Sweating Sickness.

~oOo~

I walked down the corridor with Jon and Alan. Due to the recent events, Alan and I had become quite good friends. The three of us never spoke of what had transpired in Jon's room. Alan avoided all my questions, and I suspected that Jon hadn't been able to remember most of it. I too kept my encounter with the Goddess (for by now I had figured out that it was her) to myself, though I often found myself pondering her words when I was alone. _Your love for other will be your biggest strength, but also your greatest weakness._ What did it mean? I wasn't sure, but I was afraid and also curious to know.

Jon's voice suddenly cut through my reverie. "Roger!" he cried gladly, running forward. I glanced up. The three of us had reached a hallway, where an extremely tall man stood, directing servants as they carried away his belongings. I estimated his height to be around six feet, maybe even more. When he glanced up, I saw that he had blue eyes and fair skin. His hair and beard was black and neatly trimmed, while his travelling gear was dusty.

_This must be Roger,_ I realised, fascinated. I watched with curiosity as Jon embraced my cousin.  
"I guess that's Duke Roger," remarked Alan.  
"I guess so too," I replied. When Alan glanced at me, startled, I smiled crookedly. "I was very young when he left to study sorcery. I don't really remember him."  
"Oh," replied Alan softly.  
The pair came up to us, the taller man's arm around Jon's shoulders  
"So you're learning magic, are you? I'll enjoy teaching you, Cousin!" exclaimed the taller man. Jon just grinned in response.  
His Grace, Duke Roger of Conté paused to study us, smiling. "Will you do me the honour of introducing me to your friends, Jonathan?"

Jon smiled. "This is a friend of mine, also in page training, Alan of Trebond." Alan bowed lightly, his face showing polite interest like the most seasoned courtier at the Midwinter Ball. Jon turned to me. "This is Willow, my sister."  
"I should've known," replied the man. "The resemblance is impossible to miss. I'm Duke Roger, your cousin, Lady Willow."_  
Well, he's charming, I'll give him that,_ I mused. Aloud I said "It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace," and curtsied politely.  
"So formal," remarked Roger. "Are you always this polite when addressing relatives?" he added lightly.  
"Are you always this blunt?" I countered.  
Roger laughed. Despite my suspicion, I couldn't help the grin that stretched across my face in response. "I apologise, cousin. I was very young when you left, and I must confess that I cannot remember you at all. I have no idea who you are," I admitted.  
Roger smiled. "It's quite alright, Your Highness. I will enjoy getting to know you more closely." He offered me a hand.  
"Likewise," I replied, taking it. He lifted it to his lips, then letting go, he kissed my cheek. I acted relaxed, but inwardly, my nerves hummed. I realised, to my surprise, that I didn't like this man. He was…odd…for want of a better word. He set me on edge.

Interestingly enough, Alan seemed to think the same way. After Jon had departed, he looked thoughtful rather than charmed. "Alan? Are you okay?" I asked.  
He started. "Yes, I'm fine. I was just thinking," he replied thoughtfully. _Still on another planet,_ I thought. _Maybe for a good reason._ I shivered inwardly.

As I walked away, I thought I heard something whisper behind me. _Be careful, Willow of Conté. A weasel can come in many guises and forms._ I shuddered, not at the voice, but at the words it said. Unease rose in my stomach. A storm was coming.

* * *

**Yeah, I know. So little from such a long wait. Sorry I was gone for so long, went on holiday over Xmas and New Year, but you don't want to know about that! I'll try to update asap. Yes, I've decided that the Goddess will be a feature in Willow's life, I've always liked mystery and intrigue :D**

Please read and review!

As always, hope you enjoyed it! =D

~MagicalLeaves  



	11. My Gift

As I continued to walk down the hallway, someone called my name.

"Excuse me, Your Highness."  
I turned. A servant stood there. She curtsied briefly. "His Royal Majesty requests your presence in his chambers."  
I nodded, hiding my surprise. _What did Father want?_ "Of course. Thank you, I'll go right away."

~oOo~

"No doubt you are wondering why I summoned you, Willow." My father studied me, his eyes a bright sapphire which both Jon and I had inherited.  
I nodded in response to his statement. The two of us sat in his room. A tray sat on a nearby table, holding a pitcher of spiced apple juice and three cups. _Three cups? We must be waiting for Jonathan._

There was a knock at the door, followed by a tall, lanky man with deep set emerald eyes and red hair. "I'm sorry I'm late. My assistant needed help with a patient."  
"It's nothing, Baird. We only just got settled."  
I rose to curtsy to Duke Baird of Queenscove, chief of the Palace Healers. "Your Grace, to what do I owe the honour?"

"I can answer that, actually," said my father. I glanced at him, startled. He met my eyes. "I have been considering recent events. You may not yet know that I summoned your cousin Duke Roger from Carthak to teach the pages of the Gift and of magic."  
"I do know, Father. Jon and I ran into him a few minutes ago."

"Good then, you are up to speed on that matter. Well, know that I haven't forgotten the action you took during Jon's…illness. I spoke with Duke Baird, and we have discussed at length the option of training your Gift."  
"Father?" I studied him, surprised.  
My father's gaze was steady, and didn't waver from my face. "You have the Gift. It's only natural - it runs in both my and your mother's families. If it was small in strength, then it wouldn't matter. However, the Gift tends to grow in strength over time as one gets older. A Gift such as yours could cause trouble if it is left untrained."  
"I don't understand."  
King Roald sighed. "It is only by luck that neither you nor Jonathan has caused anything…well, big." He studied me, his gaze fond. "I intend to allow you, Jonathan, and the others the chance to train yourselves. I made a mistake in thinking that if I ignored the Gift, it would go away. That is the worst thing to do, for there may be a time when you might need it and not have it, as you may have noticed with recent events. So, after due consideration and discussion with His Grace-" he indicated Duke Baird, who inclined his head in acknowledgement "-I have decided that you should be trained as a healer."

I stared at him for a long moment.  
"You will be trained by Duke Baird and the other palace healers. I'm also considering you learning basic magic, just in case. That will be taught by your cousin Roger, if you decide to learn such magic. I know that you had an interest in your Gift in the past, so I intend to allow you to follow that interest."

"Thank you," I finally whispered after a long silence.  
My father shook his head. "No, my daughter. You and Page Alan saved you brother's and my son's life during the Sweating Sickness. It is I who should be thanking you, even if it did mean disobeying me." I was unsure how to accept such a rare and handsome tribute. Maybe my father did understand me more than I thought after all.

Our business finished, we quickly poured eachother juice and settled down to discuss about my new lessons.

~oOo~

"Where've you been?"  
I looked up, startled by Jon clapping me on the shoulder. "That's a new book. Is it about being a lady again? Surely you already know all that stuff."  
"Actually, it isn't," I replied, showing Jon the cover. _Basic Healing: Spells, Potions, and Poultices._  
My older brother whistled. "Healing? Better not let Father see that, he'd have a fit."  
"Actually," I replied quietly, "Father was the one who gave it to me." As Jon stared at me, I added, "Due to recent events, he and Duke Baird agreed that I should also learn to use my Gift. At the very least, the palace will have another healer."  
Jon grinned. "Congratulations," he said, engulfing me in a hug. "I always knew you'd get through to the old man one day."  
"He's your father, show some respect," I said, lightly punching Jon in the shoulder.  
"And I'm your older brother-you'd better show me respect," retorted Jon, his eyes dancing with laughter and mischief. I laughed.

"Come on," said Jon.  
"Where are we going?" I demanded, surprised.  
"To tell everyone, of course!" laughed Jon. I allowed myself to be led down the hallway to Jon's room.

Later that night, while I lay in bed asleep, a breeze danced through the slightly open window._  
Train your talents, Willow, not just for healing but also for war. What I said about you when we first met-it will make you a powerful healer, but also a strong mage._  
A frown creased my face momentarily, before I exhaled and rolled over, sinking back into Ganiel's world of dreams.

* * *

**Well, that actually went better than I thought it would. YAY  
Now Jon and the pages are learning magic, and Willow is allowed to study healing, though not at a university.  
Interesting advice from the Goddess, no? Maybe Willow will remember it in the morning...**

Hope you liked it! Please review! =)


	12. The New Old Sword

**So, here's is the missing chapter which refers to Lightning...sorry for missing it out.  
The New Old Sword. I rather like this title. You know, because it's Alan's new sword, but it's made by the Old Ones...yeah, my friends say my jokes are lame too xD  
As always, HAPPY READING! :)**

**

* * *

**

"So, how are your lessons going?" inquired Jon.

We were spending some brother-sister time together, playing some chess in a room that I hadn't visited for almost 10 years. As Jon spoke, I gazed around the place. The carpet and walls were still the same, only more worn and faded by time, but the sun still shone through the window into a pool of gold in that same spot, and the room still smelled like freshly washed laundry. It only seemed like yesterday when a girl beat her older brother at chess here on her 5th birthday...

"Ahem." Jon cut through my reverie. "Your turn." He gestured at the board.  
"Oh, right," I said, glancing down. "They're going well," I added, referring to my lessons, as I contemplated my position. "Duke Baird is a good teacher. He doesn't read minds, and he's firm, but not harsh. He always asks questions, I guess that's just how he teaches. But it's a good method of teaching, because I think that his questions help me memorise what to do." I tilted my head sideways slightly, and moved my bishop out of the way of his knight.  
"Well, that's always good to know," replied Jon. He castled on the queen side.  
"Took you long enough to do that," I said, having already castled on the king side. "How about you? What's Duke Roger like?"

Jon didn't reply for a long time, focusing intently on the board. Finally he said "My lessons are very slow. Roger focuses on theory for weeks before he lets us try the spell in a practical, and even those are meticulously planned. He says that he doesn't want anything to get out of hand, but still..." his voice trailed off as he moved his queen.  
I frowned, both at the board and at Jon's words. "That's not right. I was practicing spells on patients after only a week or so of theory. They were only simple ones, but still, it shouldn't take that long to learn theory, right?" As I spoke, I saw Jon's mistake, and immediately took advantage of it, moving my queen up to take his rook.

Jon scowled at me, then looked back down. "I don't know," he replied. He stared at the board for a moment, then groaned, "You cannot be serious," he muttered, hanging his head.  
I chuckled...just as the gong that signalled the next hour, and the end of the pages' and Jon's free time, rang very loudly. Jon sighed, tipping over his king. "Not again," he muttered.  
I grinned. "Think of it this way, Jon," I said, packing up the set. "You've improved. You can figure out when you've lost before you actually have...on the turn before instead of the actual occasion."  
"Shut up," Jon said. I laughed. "When will you admit that I'm better than you?"  
"Never!" exclaimed my brother, planting his hands on his hips. "I will never give up on the hope that I'll one day beat you, evil villain!"  
"Who's an evil villain?" Roger stood in the doorway, looking bemused.  
My good humour faded as quickly as it came. "Nothing," I replied, "we were just spending some time together."  
Roger studied us curiously, then shrugged. "Well, your father sent me to tell you that we're all eating dinner together," he said.  
I scowled inwardly. I did **not** want to eat dinner with Roger. My feelings towards him had not improved over the past few months. In fact, I was becoming even more distrustful of him. He made me edgy, and this feeling had only increased over time.

"I noticed you and Page Alan are rather close," remarked Roger as we left the room. "He hasn't been around today. Would you happen to know where he is?"  
I blinked, taken aback by this new plan of attack. "Yes," I finally managed to say, "Alan and I are good friends. No, I don't know where he is." In fact, I had been wondering that too.  
Jon looked startled. "You don't know?" When I glanced at him, he said "Sir Myles invited Alan to Barony Olau."  
"Really?" I was surprised.  
"I thought you knew," said Jon, shrugging.  
"I wonder why Myles did that," I murmured. "I didn't know they were so close."  
"I didn't know either," replied Jon, "but they say you learn something new every day."

~oOo~

"I hear from His Grace of Queenscove that your lessons are proceeding rather well," remarked my father. He was sitting at the head of the table. Roger sat on the left of him, and Mother on the right. Jon was sitting on Mother's other side, opposite his cousin, while I sat next to Jon.  
"I guess so," I replied, unsure of where this conversation was heading.  
"You guess so," repeated my father, studying me. It took me a moment to realise that he was amused. "Duke Baird says that you are a quiet, competent student, and that the only thing limiting your learning is the fact that there aren't worse illnesses and injuries about the palace for you to practice on, though I hope that such things will never happen."  
"I didn't know he thought so highly of you," said Jon, surprised.  
"Neither did I," I managed to say, my cheeks now a faint pink.  
"Well," said Father, "I'm rather proud of your achievements, Willow."  
I swallowed. To get such compliments from first Duke Baird then my father in one night, was very rare indeed. I glanced at Jon for help, feeling very conspicuous. To my exasperation, he only looked back, his eyes twinkling with amusement at my discomfort.

"And how is Jon's studies going, Cousin?" I said, more to turn the spotlight away from me than anything else (I hated being the center of attention).  
Roger shrugged. "As well, if not better, than any of the pages are doing," he replied. "Though I'm sure that if you deigned to join us, you would give them a run for their money, so to speak." He smiled at me, again turning on his charm. "The way His Grace speaks about you, it seems a shame that you are only focusing on healing. You'd make a powerful mage too, and a mage talented in two disciplines is always better than a mage in one."  
I sighed inwardly. Father and my cousin Roger were still trying to convince me to join in with the pages. Jon had long since given up, declaring that it was my loss.

I kept a pleasant smile on my face. "I'm afraid, Cousin, that if I joined the pages in your studies, that I would not be disciplined enough to stand up to learning both healing and magic at the same time," I said, keeping my voice light. "I have heard that train the boys very hard, and Goddess knows that my own studies keep me very busy."  
"I think that you underestimate yourself," replied Roger, "but to each his own, I guess. Perhaps another time, sweet cousin?"  
"You know that flattery will get you nowhere," I replied, causing Roger to snort.  
"Yes, but it makes my day all the more exciting," he replied, grinning.  
I shook my head, as Mother smiled and Father chuckled quietly.  
"Besides," I added, "if I exceeded the pages' in magic, they probably wouldn't like me as much." This time Roger laughed.

~oOo~

I wandered through the hallway, bored. The dinner last night hadn't gone as badly as I had thought it would. Jon had pulled me aside afterwards. "I still don't understand why you're so edgy around Roger," he had said. "I mean, you two got on rather well just now."  
I had shrugged it off, and Jon had left it at that. But that last conversation had sat brewing in my mind all night. It made it very hard for me to sleep, and I had been debating whether to spell myself asleep before I had finally dropped off without realising.

As I considered last night's meal, I turned the corner-and walked straight into Alan, who was walking with Jon and Gary. The shorter boy yelped, dropping something to the floor. I jumped out the way. "Sorry Alan," I apologised, bending over to pick up the dropped object. "I wasn't paying attention."  
Alan shrugged. "It's okay," he replied, "but I advise you not to pick that up."  
I blinked, then glanced down again. Closer inspection realised it was a double-edged sword, with a gem-studded hilt and topped by a globe of clear crystal. Carefully I picked it up by the hilt. To my surprise it was lighter than I expected.  
"Wow Alan," I said, obviously impressed, "where on earth did you get this? Is it a gift from your father?"  
Jon snorted. "As if," he said. He glanced at Alan. "No offence," he added.  
"None taken," the boy replied. "Everyone knows how 'interested' my father is in my affairs." (Indeed, Alan had told us of a recent letter received from his father that commented on how satisfied he was with "Thom's" training). He met my gaze. "Myles gave it to me."  
I stared at him. "I didn't know Sir Myles thought so highly of you," I finally said, astonished.  
"I didn't know he thought so highly of you either," Alan countered. "I've heard from him that you're one of the best chess students he ever had."  
I rolled my eyes. "Oh not that again," I muttered as Jon snorted and Gary chuckled.  
"Anyway," Alan continued. "Myles took me on a tour through the ruins of the Old Ones that's near his barony, and we found it in the armoury. He let me have it because he had no use for it."  
I grinned. "You have good friends," I said, half-teasing.  
"You shouldn't flatter yourself," replied Alan. "It's not that becoming. And you don't like flattery."  
I laughed, shaking my head. "I may be a better chess player, but I think you are wittier," I said ruefully. I glanced at the crystal again. "Can you do magic with that sword?" I asked, gesturing at the crystal on the top.  
"Not here," replied Alan.  
I blinked, confused. Jon sighed. "When Roger inspected the sword, it started glowing. He nearly had a fit in the class," he explained. "Then he tried to get Alan to make the crystal glow. It didn't work."  
I shrugged, studying the sword curiously. "Maybe it only shines when it wants to?" I suggested.  
"You speak as if it has feelings," said Jon. "May I remind you that it is a sword?"  
I studied Jon. "Alan here says he and Myles found it in the ruins of the Old Ones. You don't think that perhaps it is imbued with magic unknown?" I asked, raising a brow. A thoughtful look crossed Jon's face.

"Anyway," said Gary, a little louder, more to get our attention than anything else. "We have free time now, so what shall we do?"  
"Well," I began, "I suggest you finish some of that homework you're always complaining about." Jon snorted.  
Gary scowled. "I can do that in later," he replied.  
"You're too easy to wind up, Cousin," I remarked, shaking my head. "It's no fun anymore." I sighed. "Well, we could go out for the hour. See our friends in the city."  
"I don't see why not," replied Jon slowly. He nodded quickly. "Okay, but let's go get Raoul first."

* * *

**So it was a bit slow at the start, and the ending was weak...but I wasn't sure how to put Lightning in.**  
**Is Willow getting charmed by Roger? Let's hope not...**  
**As always, I hope you enjoyed this, and please review!**

**~MagicalLeaves**


	13. Role Reversal

My learning progressed swiftly from week to week. I learnt everything I could, eager to understand and discover as fast as I could. The only thing I was more hesitant on was learning basic magic, despite Father's encouragement. As exciting as it seemed, I did _not_ want to learn or go anywhere near my cousin Roger. I still didn't like him, though I was always polite around the man.

~oOo~

I paused outside in the hallway, hesitating. Then I heard a thump, followed by a yelp and muffled cursing, and I smiled. Jon was inside after all. I knocked briskly, the noise echoing down the silent corridor.

"Give me a moment!" I laughed softly at Jon's strained voice.  
There were footsteps, and the door opened. "Oh Willow, it's you. Come on in."  
I followed him inside, looking amused as I watched him limp over to hug me. "What did you do this time, hit your foot on the table again?" I teased him.  
Jon scowled. "No I didn't, thank you very much," he snapped. "I dropped that stupid thing on it." He pointed at his pack.  
I raised a brow. "Oh, come on, it can't have hurt that much," I began, reaching over.  
"Wait, don't-" he began._  
Too late, _I thought as I tugged on the strap. "What in the name of the Goddess did you put in here, Jon?" I demanded. I opened it, only to be confronted by a very thick book. "Mithros Jon! What on earth are you packing, a portable library?"  
"No," stammered Jon, his cheeks now a faint pink.  
I picked up the aforementioned book. _Interacting with the Bazhir: The Do's and Don't's, by Lord Martin of Meron._ It took an instant to figure out Jon's worries.  
"Oh Jon," I sighed, "You don't need this. You'll be fine."  
"But I'm going to be King one day," Jon finally mumbled in reply. "I have to learn what they're like."  
"You won't learn that from this thing," I replied, setting it aside. "You'll learn what the Bazhir are like by meeting them, face to face. This sort of experience only comes from real-life encounters, which you are, by the way, heading towards," I added, referring to his looming trip to the Great Southern Desert and Persopolis, where the Bazhir resided.  
"But what if I mess up?" said Jon.  
I gripped him by the shoulders. "Jon," I said firmly, "stop being such a sap-filled nob." He stiffened, his head shooting up to stare at me. "You are His Royal Highness Jonathan of Conté, Crown Prince of Tortall, son of Their Royal Majesties King Roald of Conté and Queen Lianne of Naxen, Squire to King Roald of Conté, and brother to Her Royal highness, Princess Willow of Conté. You are 16 years old, almost a man, and you are better than this. You are a good person, and I am proud of you." I took a breath. "Jon, you are my brother, and I've known you all my life. I believe in you. Go out there, meet the Bazhir, and be yourself. They will love you for who you are." Then I hugged him hard.

When Jon pulled away, he swiped his sleeve roughly over his eyes and studied me for a long moment, an odd look on his face. "The roles have been reversed," he murmured softly. As I blinked at him, not understanding, he smiled sadly. "It seems like only yesterday that I was reassuring my little sister that she'd be okay by herself while I was off at page training."  
My own eyes filled unexpectedly. "Now you've made me cry," I muttered, turning away. "Do you know how long it takes me to stop nowadays. I hate being a woman. I feel so emotional all the time."  
"Only because you care so much about the people you love," replied Jon, "And that makes you strong."  
The words of the Goddess wound their way through my mind, but I ignored them for the time being, instead throwing my arms around Jon's shoulders. "You'll be fine Jon." I pulled away, then added "you're my brother, and I love you very much. If you get killed out there I'll be very disappointed in you. And I'll hate you forever because then I'll have to be Queen."  
As expected, Jon laughed. "Always thinking about yourself, tree-girl," he said, embracing me warmly.  
I fought down the lump that grew in my throat from the mention of my old childhood name (known only by Gary and Jon of course. I wasn't really that close to any other people growing up).

Pulling away, Jon cleared his throat. "Well, this is it."  
"No it isn't," I replied. "You're coming back remember? This is just the beginning."  
Jon smiled. "True, true." He hefted his pack, more easily now that I had removed that brick of a book. "Well, see ya," he said.  
"Bye Jon," I replied. "See you in a few weeks."

* * *

**Well, that took longer than expected. Oh well, it worked out in the end.**  
**"Sap-filled nob", I love this! It's why I enjoy writing, I get to create, but not just insults of course! :D**

**As always, hope you've enjoyed the chapter! Please review!**

**~MagicalLeaves**


	14. The Surprise in the Crystal

**I've decided that this will be the final chapter of the story. I apologise in advance for how it will be left, but this ensures that you'll have to come back! =D  
ahaha...but seriously, I'm sorry for how this will end (and if you read it, then you will understand why I'm sorry)**

* * *

"Very good, Willow. Now, what do we do next?" inquired Duke Baird.  
"Bandage the wound," I replied. "Make sure the cloth being used is clean," I added quickly.  
"Tight, or loose? The Duke continued.  
"Tight," I replied. "But loose enough to allow the circulation to flow."  
"Very good. Off you go."

I did as requested, carefully bandaging the woman's hand. When I had finished, the Duke examined the job, readjusting the bandage where necessary and giving me a few pointers. Once finished, he nodded. "That's all for today, Willow. You are dismissed. See you tomorrow." I curtsied to him in reply, then walked out of the infirmary, pulling off my infirmary robe and letting another healer take it as I left quietly.

Once free, I headed to my room. George had recently come by a new book on scrying in the market, and had lent it to me. I had started reading it a few days ago, and was already fascinated by what I was learning, so intended to get into the practical side of things as soon as I had free time, which was now.

~oOo~

Once in my room, I locked the door, grabbing the book before curling up in my chair. I turned to a page marked by a ribbon, and placed it on the table before heading into my room. After some rummaging, I returned with a clear globe of light green crystal, which I placed on the table next to the book. The book itself I read one final time, making sure I had memorised everything (and nothing would go wrong). Setting aside the book, I placed the crystal in my lap, cupped in my hands, and took one final breath.

I settled comfortably into the chair before sinking into meditation. Once my mind was empty and my breathing was deep and relaxed, I gazed at the crystal, murmuring the incantation that would start the scrying process. I continued to stare, a flicker of colour passed through the green globe. I forced myself to remain calm. If I got distracted or excited, the spell would snap as easily as a fragile thread. I was a beginner after all and this was my first attempt ever. I bit my lip as colours began to swirl in the globe, fiercely forcing my gaze to remain fixed and not chase after every new flickering picture.

Suddenly, the image flickered, then settled, though it was tinged green from the crystal itself. I found myself gazing at a city of black stone. Even as I watched, Jon and Alan faced off against a group of ten extremely beautiful and extremely tall men and women. As I stared, captivated by both the images and my amazement at my success, yellow-green fire swamped over Alan, leaving him wearing only a loincloth and...a breastband?

My eyes widened, and I jerked my head back in surprise. _Alan was a girl? Impossible._ "That cannot be," I whispered shakily. I let the crystal drop to the plush carpet, the images that had appeared now long gone, the spell broken. In a daze I put everything away.

_This is why only powerful mages scry,_ I told myself numbly,_ because only they are able to cope with what can be seen._

* * *

**So there you have it!**** So ends the story Willow: The Seed**_._

**Stay tuned for the next in the series Willow: The Shoot !  
I hoped you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it! If so, please review and tell me why. If not, please review and give me some pointers! (But no "Your story sucks I hate you" nonsense, that's a waste of time) Constructive critism would be much appreciated! :)**

**Love all of you guys!**

**~MagicalLeaves**


	15. To My Readers

**Hey guys! :)**

This is more of like a thank you for those who have stuck with Willow through this story! Be patient, Story 2 is coming out soon so watch this space! For now all I can give you is this teaser :)

I have a few other ideas too, including stories involving Willow's children...oohhhh a teaser! Now you'll have to come back to meet them too! *evil grin*  
**I've left a lot of unanswered questions, so thanks for your patience, and I hope to see you all in the next story! (metaphorically speaking, of course!)**

I hope you've had as much fun reading as I have had writing it!

Lots and lots of love to you all! Thanks so much for everything!

**MagicalLeaves**

Here's the teaser! :D

**

* * *

**

There was a sharp knock at the door. I rose to open it.

"Hello Gary," I said, greeting my cousin cheerfully. "I take it that you didn't play any pranks while you were away?"  
"Hi," he replied. "Of course not. That wouldn't be very nice."  
"You're not a nice person," I countered.  
Gary snorted. "I see you missed me then, Tree Girl," he said with a grin. He entered the room to hug me. I returned his embrace fiercely.  
"I can't believe you still remember that name," I muttered after we finally separated.  
"Knowing you, it's probably all I've got left now," answered Gary. "We've been so busy meeting the Bazhir and all, that I've had no time to think up new comebacks."  
"Excellent," I replied, "that means I'll finally be better than you at something." Gary laughed.

"How's Jon and the others?" I asked.  
"Haven't you seen him yet?" said Gary, surprised. He looked even more so when I shook my head. "I'll go get him if you want."  
"No, it's ok," I replied. "It can wait." _Well, it couldn't, but then if he didn't come to me, I would go to him…_


End file.
